


High as a...public jet

by MsPeppernose



Series: Panties 'verse [5]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: AU, Blowjobs, M/M, Mile High Club, boys in panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 05:19:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16190900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: “Pete,” Patrick says carefully. He’s not sure how to broach it. Pete makes him horny as fuck, but they’re on a plane and he’s not really that guy. Then again, he also wasn’t the kind of guy to wear women’s underwear until today. God, it’s like Pete is rubbing off on him. Jesus fuck, he does not want to think aboutPete rubbing off on him.





	High as a...public jet

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in about a year! \o/ I'm just happy I finished it!!
> 
> So I flew from Ireland to Chicago to see the boys play Wrigley field, couldn't sleep on the flight home and it got me thinking...
> 
> Unbetad so my sincere apologies for any shortcoming and for all the typos (my laptop has one of those stupid halo keyboards that are ridiculous to type on!)

Pete’s a terrible traveller. Terrible. Especially for someone whose job involves so damn much of it.

Patrick only has to look at Pete to see how much pent up energy he’s going to have by the end of it.

Patrick generally has two modes on a flight; working or sleeping. Either he has his laptop out and headphones on, editing and tweaking things, or he’s passed out with a sleep mask on and his blanket pulled up to his chin.

Pete, well, Pete is never still for more than five minutes on a flight, especially a transatlantic redeye such as this one. Patrick and Pete have been in London doing promo work, alone because Joe has the new baby and Andy is loved up and really it’s just been repetitive interviews anyway.

So with a flight time just shy of twelve hours ahead of them, Patrick can practically see the fidgeting, wandering, Candy Crush, movies and doodling, on Pete’s face.

“Dude, I hate these flights,” Pete says as he roots through his bag for his phone charger, already down to ten percent from playing Angry Birds for an hour and a half while they waited to board. “Can’t wait until they invent some sort of Star Trek style transporter.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Patrick says. He’s planning on working as soon as the fasten seatbelt sign goes off, at least for the first half of the flight. Obviously long-haul flights are no fun for anyone but since they get to travel Business Class these days, at least there’s more space and comfort than flying couch, all folded up trying to get anyway sort of rest - not that either Pete or Patrick really need the extra legroom.

“You plan on sleeping?”

“Yeah, a little. I have meetings tomorrow so I can’t have no sleep at all. I have a couple things to do first” Patrick says, distracted watching the baggage handlers work their way through a huge trolley of suitcases, hoping to God that the new flight case he’s using is enough to protect his guitar. “What you plan on doing? Is there any good in-flight movies?”

“Yeah, maybe. I think the new Avengers is there. Not sure I plan on watching movies the whole time though.”

There’s something in Pete’s voice that gets Patrick’s attention, an undertone that he’s familiar with. When Patrick turns his head to look into Pete’s eyes, there’s a sultry darkness to those chocolate brown eyes.

The thing is, Patrick has a secret, and Pete is the only one that knows.

An hour or so before they left for the airport, Pete cornered Patrick, pushing him up against the wall and nuzzling into his neck. With his lips against Patrick throat he flicked the button of Patrick’s jeans open and slid his hand inside, murmuring gorgeous, sexy things into Patrick’s skin. 

This is not new for them, not by far, but what was new was Pete’s request.

“Can you do something for me, Trick?” he said, low and rumbly, His lips and tongue trailed over Patrick’s neck. Patrick’s now open jeans allowed Pete to get a good grip on Patrick’s cock, a familiar heat spreading over Patrick’s skin.

“Anything,” Patrick said, without thinking about much more than Pete’s mouth, Pete’s hands.

“Wear my underwear. On the flight, wear them for me please.”

“Sure, whatever you want.” It’s a no-brainer. Who cares what underwear Patrick wears anyway. 

Pete continued to take Patrick apart, until he came all over Pete’s hand, knees weak and fingers scabbling for purchase against the wall. Pete jerked himself off then, pressed in against Patrick, breathing hard against his neck. He looked incredible; sinful and beautiful all wrapped up together.

It was only afterwards, in the midst of packing, when a pair flimsy purple panties hit Patrick on the back of the head, that he put two and two together. Oh, _that_ underwear. Yeah, Patrick maybe should have used his brain to think and not his dick, because panties are more Pete’s thing. 

“Really?”

Pete frowned. “You said!”

“I thought you just meant your boxers.” 

Pete’s frown deepened. “That’s not hot!”

“Panties are not really my thing…” but when he saw Pete’s sad, broken puppydog face, he said, “you know what, gimme them.”

“Really?” Pete asked, his face like sunshine. That smile alone made Patrick realise it was the correct decision. And anyway, they’re just underwear. No biggie.

But now, as the flight attendant in front of them does the safety demonstration, it’s all Patrick can think of. Sure, he was vaguely aware of them all day; afraid of how he sat in case the waistband of his jeans snuck down and exposed him, careful not to make any sudden movements in case his dick escapes them. They're smaller, skimpier than his regular boxers, but not uncomfortable. He knows Pete's wearing panties too, but Pete's are tiny, slinky black things with lace and bows, and yes, Patrick should stop thinking about that now. 

Pete’s wearing sweatpants like he usually does on long haul flights, Patrick’s in jeans like he is at all times of he day. Both keep the panties hidden.

The whole _panties_ thing is Pete’s realm usually, though Patrick is into it when it’s Pete who’s wearing them. He enjoys knowing something about Pete that the world knows nothing about, but it's slightly outside his comfort zone to have it the other way around. He’s never been on this side of it; the secret that’s his, the feeling of them on his skin. This must be how Pete feels when he wears them. It’s like a low-grade electrical current on his skin. He likes it, though he thinks that this will likely be a once-off for him.

The safety demo is a blur - Patrick could easily recite it word for word he's seen so many of them. Before he knows it, they're in the air and soaring over London, on their way home to Los Angeles. 

After that, while he waits for his first in-flight beverage, Patrick's takes out his laptop and headphones and sets up shop. 

It's so easy for him to get into editing things, even on a flight, and he knows he can kill at least four or five hours of this stupidly long flight with just his laptop to keep him company. 

In his peripheral vision he can see Pete rooting through his rucksack again. Pete finds a notebook and a couple of coloured pens and begins doodling - they’re full of words and little drawings, anything that might be used for upcoming merch or album cover designs, lyrics or stage visuals. Pete always has so many ideas and even if those notebooks end up a jumble of so many things, Patricks loves to read them (when Pete lets him).

Shortly after that, they’re served drinks and Pete gets distracted and, after drinking half his OJ goes for a walk. Patrick settles back into listening and editing but he sees Pete come back a couple minutes later only for him to leave again, this time in the other direction. Maybe he’s going to the bathroom.

The facilities in business class are obviously more comfortable than in coach. Everything is a little larger, the bathrooms are fancier with actual room to manoeuvre, there’s a bar too, something that he knows for sure coach doesn’t have. He’s seen planes that have showers and lounge areas too, which although this particular plane does not have, it’s good for Pete to kill some time in. 

Pete comes back with a bag of peanuts in his hand, happily munching. Again,  
Patrick’s only keeping half an eye on him - he knows what Pete is like on these flights - but when a peanut falls to the floor and Pete bends over to retrieve it, reaching far into the isle, Patrick sees a thin lace waistband appear over the top of Pete’s sweats. 

Pete has been known to show off like this to tease Patrick, showing off a little skin or some lace to get into Patrick’s head or let him know what might be on the menu for later. But right now he’s just a disaster. 

“Pete!” Patrick hisses.

Pete whips around to face Patrick, looks momentarily confused, and then gets it. He adjusts his sweatpants and covers up his panties, grinning a thanks to Patrick. He goes back to eating his peanuts and flicking through the inflight movies. 

Patrick is now the distracted one, though. He returns to his laptop but his heart is not quite in it. For a little while he watches Pete begin watching Avengers. Pete’s got his own headphones plugged in, rather than the crappy ones that they’re given. Patrick watches him twirl the cable around his fingers as he settles down. Patrick tries to focus because this will be a long-ass flight if he gives up on it now.

Pete lasts about twenty minutes before he resumes his fidgeting.

He watches approximately forty-five minutes of a movie before he gets up and goes to the bathroom, changing into a different t-shirt after spilling coffee on himself. He wanders around the plane a little. He reads a book, but not for long. He sketches something out. He tries to sleep but that doesn’t last long either.

Patrick is getting antsy just looking at him, though he focuses on his screen and tries to block all the fidgeting out.

Pete suddenly gets up and walks around to Patrick’s seat. There’s a little partition between them so it’s not as if they were far away to begin with. He proceeds to wiggle his way in beside Patrick and even if they’re both on the diminutive side, there’s definitely not enough room for both of them. But Pete persists until at least half of his ass is on Patrick’s seat, armrest and Patrick’s comfort be damned. 

“Can I sit with you?”

“You already are? Your seat is like a foot away!” 

“Not the same. What are you doing?”

“Editing,” Patrick says, and moves his laptop closer so that Pete can’t start fiddling with his settings. 

“Can I help?”

Patrick sighs. “Not right now. Don’t you have anything to do?” 

Pete shakes his head. He then steps his obnoxiousness up a notch and leans over, swivels Patrick's laptop around so it's now facing Pete. Patrick would be mad but he wants to see what Pete’s up to.

Pete proceeds to silently open a text document and begins to type.

_I’m bored_

Patrick rolls his eyes because _Duh!_

 _so bored. thinkin about a lot of things_

“Like what?” Patrick asks, out loud. 

Pete looks at him long and hard, mischief in his eyes and a tiny smirk on his lips. 

_what you’re wearing_

He waits for any sort of reaction from Patrick but Patrick stays unmoving.

 _Been thinkin about this morning too_ another sideways glance to Patrick. _and how I want to suck you off again_

Patrick swallows hard and his stomach swoops down low. 

“Later,” is all Patrick says.

Pete slumps, almost defeated. But as Patrick knows all too well, Pete does not give up so easily. If anything, once he gets something into his head, not much will derail him. So Patrick is not all that surprised when Pete whips the laptop off the little fold out table and takes it back to his own seat with him. Concerned for his editing, but not surprised. Agitated that Pete is being a dick, but not surprised.

Patrick knows it can now go two ways; he can snap at Pete, potentially start a fight on the flight and get his laptop, or let it play out, let Pete have five minutes to get bored of this too, and then get his laptop back. He chooses the latter.

He watches Pete sit down again, pull the laptop in close and frantically tap away at the keyboard.

When Pete thrusts it back at him, Patrick’s not entirely sure what to make of what Pete has written. It’s badly typed, full of spelling mistakes and typos from trying it out so quickly, but it’s...hot.

There’s mentions of _sucking_ and _licking_ , of how Pete’s been thinking about Patrick wearing paties and how sexy it is. Pete describes, in great detail, that he’d like to go down on Patrick, that he wishes they’d treated themselves to a private jet so that they could fuck, long and slow, the entire way home. 

Patrick’s cheeks are pink. Damn, his whole body is blushing right now. He’s sweating hard too, as he turns to Pete. 

“Pete,” Patrick says carefully. He’s not sure how to broach it. Pete makes him horny as fuck, especially his sexting, which this is just an expansion of. But they’re on a plane and he’s not really that guy. Then again, he also wasn’t the kind of guy to wear women’s underwear until today. God, it’s like Pete is rubbing off on him. Jesus fuck, he does not want to think about _Pete rubbing off on him_.

He decides to just put up a front. “Put a sock in it, Wentz. There’s at least a dozen movies to watch. Soon we’ll get fed. Just chill out, y’know”. His tone softens at the end because he knows Pete is dreadful at flights and he’s bored, and in fairness so is Patrick now. At least on long bus trips they can be as loud as they please with TVs and games consoles and sneak away to the bunks to be alone together.

Patrick gets a little more work done, but he keeps catching Pete looking at him. Pete’s giving him these _eyes_ , big soulful brown eyes, full of mischief and want and Patrick’s so good at getting lost in them, but he tries to keep steady and block Pete out so he can work.

Next, Pete is scribbling in a notebook, as he often does. Patrick watches him as he writes something quickly, rips the page out of the notebook and balls it up. 

Patrick’s not surprised when Pete flings it at him, hitting him on the forehead.

It reads _wanna join the mile high club?_

Patrick swallows hard as a little thrill runs through him. He pointedly does not look at Pete but he’s sure Pete is either grinning or staring at the ceiling trying to look inconspicuous. Either way, Patrick needs a second before he decides. He spots an air steward heading their way, so he scrunches up the sheet of paper again and shoves it into his jeans pocket, really not wanting anyone to accidentally read it.

Patrick’s not a member of the mile high club, never taking Pete any offer he’s made before, never even considering it before he and Pete got together. He also knows that Pete _has_ joined the mile high club, because of course he has, this is Pete afterall. 

Patrick suspects that Pete may continue in this vein until he gets his way. Not that that's why Patrick would give in - he knows better than that, and he knows that pandering to Pete's ridiculousness only encourages him. He does have a feeling that a quiet promise of something hot and dirty when they get home might be enough to calm Pete. 

But no, Patrick feels like this would put him outside his comfort zone but in the best way. He's felt a warmth inside him since Pete started this, one that he can hold onto until they're safely at home, but...Maybe he doesn't want to wait. Maybe, just maybe, Patrick wants to push himself and be the risk taker for once. Maybe the thrill he feels is exactly what he needs.

But not quite yet. They’ve only been in the air for a couple hours so far, and Patrick knows there’s still time before people settle down and sleep, before the crew make themselves scarce and turn the lights down. Right now here’s still in-flight meals to serve and there’s far too many people milling around for Patrick’s comfort.

Pete’s looking at Patrick now, eyes wide and a picture of innocence. 

“Tell you what, Pete, if you sit still for a couple hours, stop distracting me and half the plane, we'll see.”

That makes Pete’s eyes widen further and he grins like he’s won the lottery.

“Seriously?”

“Maybe. I dunno. We’ll see. Just, y’know, not right now.”

“But during the next eight hours?”

“Maybe?”

“Alright,” Pete says. He sits up straight, grabs his book. He gives Patrick a sidelong look, like he’s still checking if he heard his correctly. “Alright.”

And then Pete just stays still, sits there reading his book. It’s a big hardback Stephen King book and Patrick knows that Pete would love to fidget, play with his chair to get the right angle, unfold and refold his tray table, dance a goddamn jig, whatever. But he sits and reads. The only movement he really does is check his phone for the time every now and again for the time, order another drink when the flight attendant come around.

When the inflight meals are served, Pete is still well behaved. 

Usually by now, Pete would have practically done laps of the plane, but all things considered, he’s done amazingly well.

Eventually, the lights get dimmed as they always do on overnight flights. Their fellow-passengers start to wind down and most people have sleep-masks and blankets on now.

Patrick waits an extra fifteen minutes until another two people switch off their monitors.  
Pete’s still behaving himself, still reading his book, or at least pretending to. 

“Pete,” Patrick whispers. Pete doesn’t respond so Patrick whispers again, 

Pete looks over at him, book still in hand. He raises his eyebrows in question and Patrick only has to smile at him in answer.

“It’s later,” Patrick says. Pete grins. “So, I might go to the bathroom in about ten minutes.”

“Good to know,” Pete says. Pete keeps his eyes on Patrick, staring openly, but still acts like his reading, blindly turning pages for a moment. “Very good to know,” he says finally.

Approximately eight minutes later, Pete silently closes his book and with just a glance across at Patrick, he gets up and heads to the bathroom.

Patrick’s stomach swoops down low, a mix of excitement, nerves and desire. His hands feel clammy as he puts his laptop and headphones away. He prays that no one will interrupt his short walk to the closest bathroom. Then he gently knocks and because there’s no _occupied_ sign he opens the door, too.

When Patrick slides the narrow door across, he sees Pete studying his reflection in the tiny mirror above the equally tiny sink. He catches Patrick’s eye and grins wide. Patrick steps inside and carefully slides the door closed behind him. 

“Didn’t think you’d be up for this, you know,” he says softly. “Thought you’d back out.” 

“Maybe I don’t wanna back out,” Patrick replies. He makes sure to turn the catch so that the door is well and truly locked. This is not something they want a surprise audience for. “Sometimes I want to do crazy things too.”

“You don’t have to, you know. We can wait until we get back. We can just kiss in here. Have a moment together. I don’t want to be the one that leads you astray--”

“I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions, Pete.” Patrick moves towards Pete, hands moving to Pete’s hips. “Even the bad ones.”

Pete kisses him hard, eyes open and staring at Patrick. It’s a hot, urgent kiss and takes Patrick’s breath away.

“Excellent,” Pete says against Patrick’s mouth a little too loudly.

“Shhhhhh!”

As much as Patrick is into this, he still doesn’t want to alert people to the fact that they’re in here together… _doing things_. If he has to stuff his sleeve in his mouth to keep quiet, he will. If he has to gag Pete he damn sure will, though Pete might be into that.

Pete breaks the kiss but presses his forehead to Patrick’s for a moment and closes his eyes. After a breath, he tilts his head and kisses Patrick again, and this time Patrick opens his mouth and lets him in. 

He kisses back hard, because maybe Pete will be quiet with a tongue down his throat. For the most part, Pete manages to stay silent, and Patrick is proud of him, because God, as much as Patrick loves the sounds Pete makes when they make out, they really have to keep the volume down

The kisses are deep and hot, with loads of tongue and wandering hands. Patrick reaches down and gives Pete’s ass a good squeeze. Pete bites Patrick’s lip in return, a nip that send sparks through Patrick’s body. 

Patrick skims his hands over Pete’s body through his clothes, hooks a hand around Pete’s neck to pull him in closer. It’s a small enough bathroom, more space than the ones in coach, but still pretty small, and it’s all the more reason to be close to Pete. 

Pete feels so good in his arms, so hot against his skin, tastes like heaven on his tongue. The rasp of Pete's stubble against Patrick's chin and lips feels amazing,

Patrick rucks Pete’s tshirt up and gets his hands on warm skin. Pete’s slightly curvier these days, his chest and belly showing a little more weight than before. But it suits him, like almost all looks he’s ever had (even the ridiculous ones). Patrick thinks Pete always looks good. He may not have rock hard, flat abs, but he’s still in good shape, and he feels so sexy under Patrick’s hands.

Pete pulls his tee all the way up and over his head, easing Patrick’s way and giving him access to Pete’s nipples. Pete moans when Patrick pinches him and Patrick has to clap a hand over Pete’s mouth. Pete just licks Patrick’s palm.

“I’ll be quiet, I promise,” Pete whispers.”I’m going to suck you off so my mouth will be occupied.”

A shudder runs through Patrick, because _God, yes_! He’d been wondering how the whole Mile High thing would work because while the bathroom in their section is bigger than normal, there’s really not enough room to fuck properly, to spread Pete out and open him up. They didn’t plan this so Pete’s not wearing a plug, though there’s a delightful thought. Getting sucked off is fucking perfect, though maybe Patrick will be the one in danger of making too much noise now.

Pete kisses Patrick’s neck, wet and hot, while his hands work Patrick’s jeans open. With Pete’s mouth on his throat and Pete’s general proximity and the fact that he’s shirtless and about to go down on Patrick, Patrick is so fucking relieved when Pete shoves his hand down Patrick’s pants. Patrick has to bite his lip to hold in the moan that should be escaping his mouth when Pete squeezes.

“God, Trick!” Pete whispers. “So hot.” He presses his forehead to Patrick’s again and they breathe together. “Can’t believe you’re wearing panties. So hot.” And in all honestly, it feels pretty hot to have Pete light up like this over a few scraps of fabric. 

Pete drops to his knees then and presses a few little kisses to Patrick’s belly. 

Gingerly, carefully, Pete peels back the panties, an inch at time. He takes a quick glance back up at Patrick like he’s checking it’s okay. It’s more than okay as far as Patrick’s concerned; really he wants Pete to get this show on the road before someone comes knocking on the bathroom door, even if it means they have to hurry up.

The first breath against Patrick’s cock sends shivers down his spine. Pete presses his lips against the sensitive head, then opens his mouth. Patrick hisses at the contact, a hiss he has to stifle. 

Pete pauses what he’s doing to look up a Patrick, deep brown eyes wide and full of mischief. “Shhh, Patrick,” he says quietly. “Don’t forget to stay quiet.”

Patrick just nods and Pete grins before ducking his head again.

Pete’s mouth is...heaven. At first he just has his lips over the head of Patrick’s dick, using his hand to jerk Patrick off a little. It’s not enough pressure to get Patrick off, but it feels amazing. 

Patrick’s breathing gets heavier, his chest rising harder with every inhale. Pete’s hand feels like a brand on his skin, burning hot, and Patrick is hyper-aware of every touch. When Pete squeezes his hip Patrick can feel Pete’s fingers and he squeezes Pete back, his hand on Pete’s bare shoulder.

Pete switches technique from sucking on the head of Patrick’s cock to sliding his mouth all the way down. There’s fierce suction going on, really stellar work by Pete. Pete’s hands too, are working hard. One squeezing Patrick’s hip, splaying over the skin, the other cupped around Patrick’s balls, massaging them, inching backwards.

Patrick loves getting fingered and sucked off at the same time, but there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to be quiet if Pete does that today. He reaches down and grabs Pete’s fingers, a silent plea to change tactics. And bless Pete, he does what he’s told and sticks to Patrick’s cock and balls instead.

Patrick threads his fingers into Pete’s hair. It’s longer now; more to hold on to. He tugs a little when Pete slides down further. Patrick wonders how this is his life; Pete is shirtless and on his knees and looking so goddamn, breathtaking and he’s going down on _Patrick_. Patrick has no idea how he got so lucky, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

Patrick is so close to the edge, and though he knows he has to have a near-silent orgasm, he’s no idea how he’s going to manage it. He takes a hand out of Pete’s hair and claps it across his mouth. He closes his eyes and all he feels is the hot suction of Pete’s mouth on his dick coupled with his hand getting damp from attempting to cover his ragged breathing. 

Pete twists his tongue in the most perfect way and Patrick comes, squeezing his eyes shut and biting down on his knuckles, and it actually works. His orgasm is stealthy-silent and he presses his head back against the wall, breathing hard until he can get back to himself.

Pete pulls off Patrick’s softening dick, licks his lips. Then he’s back on his feet pinning Patrick to the wall, kissing him. Patrick’s still out of breath, still a little lightheaded, but he kisses Pete back. He can taste himself on Pete’s tongue. He can also feel how hard Pete still is.

Patrick gets down on his knees where he is, leaving Pete standing facing the wall of the tiny bathroom. Pete’s sweatpants do absolutely nothing to hide his erection and when Patrick yanks his pants down, those tiny black panties are right there, staring him in the face. They're completely tented by Pete's hard dick, so gorgeous. Patrick mouths at Pete's skin through the flimsy fabric first and then pulls them down, Pete's hard-on springing free. Patrick pulls the sweatpants and underwear down so that they’re at Pete’s knees, so that he’s naked from the knees. What a glorious sight that is.

Pete’s dick is flushed dark and standing up against his stomach when Patrick takes hold of it. Pete moans when Patrick touches him but he quickly presses his lips together and swallows the sound. 

Patrick’s not sure if Pete’s going to be able to do this, but nevertheless, he’s going to make Pete come his brains out.

Pete’s so receptive to blowjobs and today - or tonight, or even this morning, time zones have fucked Patrick up a little - is no different. Patrick can feel Pete’s muscles tense and Patrick knows that Pete is already holding back.

Patrick brushes his hand down Pete’s stomach, letting his finger trail down the line of fine hair on his belly, letting his eyes continue down to Pete’s cock, his balls. 

There’s a bitten off hiss from Pete when Patrick seals his mouth over the tips of Pete’s cock. He feels Pete’s hand on his shoulder as he slides his mouth down, hears Pete mutter cuss words above him as he hollows his cheeks and sucks hard.

Pete removes his hand from Patrick’s shoulder with a last caress and braces them against the wall instead. He only lasts mere minutes before he’s got his hand stuffed in his mouth, breathing through his nose and coming down Patrick’s throat.

He doesn’t waste a second, just pulls Patrick up and kisses him again, still hungry kisses like before but ending in soft kisses.

“Thank you for indulging me in this,” Pete whispers.

Patrick pulls back enough to look into Pete’s deep brown eyes that look almost black in this light.

“You don’t get it,” he whispers back. “This wasn’t for you. Well not just for you. It’s for me, too. Sometimes, I dunno. Sometimes, it feels good to push myself. Sometimes it feels good to let you push me so that I push myself.”

“So you’re saying that ‘i should encourage you to hook up in more places?” Pete chances. He’s smirking.

“No!” Patrick says. “Maybe?” He kisses pete again. “Just get dressed, Pete, okay?”

He pulls Pete in for another kiss, a last kiss for this flight. Then we watches Pete’s gorgeous self disappear under his clothes again. 

“Go first,” Patrick whispers. “Go! See you out there.”

Pete’s fixing his hair again, but he grabs Patrick’s hand and places a kiss on the knuckles before giving it a squeeze.

Pete leaves and closes the door behind him. Patrick listens out as best he can and cringes hard when he hears a muffled conversation between Pete and an unknown person.

“Yeah, my friend’s not feeling great. Maybe give him a minute. I’m sure he’ll be safe to come out soon.”

Patrick is somewhat mortified, because if he really was sick, why the hell would Pete be in a tiny cubicle with him while he pukes his guts up? Still, if it means they get away with what they appear to have just gotten away with, then _c’est la vie!_

Patrick fixes his clothes so they look less rumpled, straightens his hat and gives himself a long look in the mirror.

His cheeks are flushed and he looks a little fucked out but the dark circles under his eyes are enough to detract from it and make him look a little sleep deprived. Though if he can settle when he’s back in his seat he still might be able to grab a few hours, even though he’d much prefer to be climbing into a bed with Pete instead of an airline seat.

Hey share a long, lingering look when Patrick returns to his seat, something that lets Patrick know that Pete feels the same way.

Pete snuggles into his blanket and falls asleep almost instantly. Patrick is not surprised at all; Pete usually sleeps like the dead after an orgasm and it’s been a really long day. Or Night. Whatever. Patrick pulls his blanket up to his chin, but he doesn’t feel like sleeping. Instead, he just feel content, and eventually he drifts off for an hour or so. 

When he wakes, he’s disorientated and he knows his neck will not forgive him for several days for the position he slept in, but when he sees Pete, Pete’s already awake and beaming at him.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Pete says fondly. 

And sadly it is morning. Patrick makes an executive decision to postpone his meetings as soon as they land. He’s going to spend the day dozing in bed with Pete instead and he’s damned if he cares.

“Morning, Pete.”

“You missed the coffees so I got you one,” Pete says and passes Patrick a plastic-lidded paper cup and Patrick takes it gladly. It’s warm, not hot, but beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to caffeine today.

“You’re amazing.” _I love you_ /

Patrick downs his coffee as the flight crew prepare for landing and everything gets put away and tidied up.

The landing itself is pretty smoothe but Patrick is always glad when they get to solid ground again, especially when the seatbelt signs finally get switched off and he can get out of this tin can.

Patrick slings his rucksack over his shoulder as they begin to leave, Pete a half a step in front of him. Before they get to the exit, Patrick gets a tap on his shoulder.

“I think you dropped this,” one of the flight crew says. She’s bright-eyed and smiling, but she’s looking at Patrick intently. She hands Patrick a piece of crumpled up paper and it takes him far too long to realize what it is. It looks severely crumpled, as if it had been uncrumpled and then squashed up again, but Patrick knows it reads _wanna join the mile high club?_

Patrick blushes furiously and he’s still opening and closing his mouth like a stunned goldfish, unable to communicate, unsure what the hell to say to her, when Pete comes back to get him.

“I hope you enjoyed the facilities, gentlemen,” she says with a smirk, and then disappears.

“What was that?” Pete says, a stupidly adorable furrow in his brow.

Patrick just thrusts the piece of paper at him, still dumbfounded. “She knows.”

He’s mortified. Pete, on the other hand is giggling like a maniac.

“Dude, we got so caught!”

“Shhh, Pete!” 

“Oh c’mon, it’s funny!” 

“And when we end up in the tabloids for getting caught doing _things_?”

Pete gets Patrick in a mock headlock and smacks a theatrical kiss on Patrick’s cheek and Patrick relaxes despite himself. “I’ll protect you,” Pete says, and somehow Patrick knows it’s true.

<3


End file.
